"No, I'm afraid Master Amn-Alrhed's goods do not include such things, but I have an acquaintance in the tents that you can see over there", he gestured towards some tents nearby, "Just ask for Armeni and tell him that I sent you. On the subject of dinner, I would arrive at sundown, that will give you enough time to get to the table. "Unfortunately, the last time the my master crossed the Aligoni was before I joined his staff. The most I know is tales that I have been told. Apparently, there were quite a few run-ins with desert bandits, and a few have, in their less-sober moments, hinted at more... interesting things."

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"And how can man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, or the temples of his gods."

Kherbish's left eyebrow perked up. "Interesting things? You must tell me, Nökür." He smiled widely. "I a man that enjoys a tale. Perhaps I can entertain you tonight, Abughai," he addressed Amn-Alrhed, "with a ballad or two. I have all that I am gathered here; I've no need to wander Herolty tonight."

Ss'kerswihpp wanted nothing more to do with the scum of Herolty. He thought it would be best to start his duties of protection right away. So, drawing his rapier, he took a stand just inside the shade of the pavilion.

"I will protect the master," He said, looking back with a pointy-toothed smile, "No harm happens here, yes, I make sure!"

The ranger used the momentary distraction to slip out of Amn-Alrhed's tent, and make his way over to Armeni. Rhen thought to ask Grodul's master himself if he carried weaponry among his wares, to be sure his servant wasn't lying, but it wouldn't make sense for him to so openly recommend another merchant with his employer within earshot. Entering the tents Grodul had indicated, Rhen scanned the room to find this Armeni, and glanced about to find what his inventory was lacking. He needed a particular weapon that he didn't use often. The ranger's preferred weapon of choice was the short sword at his hip. The well-balanced blade, a non-descript and rather ragged-looking thing, save for an expertly cut green gem layed into the pommel, had kept him alive during his years in the wild, and he wielded the weapon with exceptional skill. It was only recently he had acquired another short sword, this one slightly lighter and fresh off the forge, to complement the first. He was steadily learning to wield both at once, and soon he would incorperate the new sword into his style. But he had lost his longbow during an encounter with a particularly disgruntled sandworm, and Rhen had a feeling he'd need a ranged weapon on this trek. He hoped Armeni had what he was looking for.

The interior of the tent was lavish, if not so much so as that of Amn-Alrhed. Several men in desert robes stood talking in one corner while a short, slight servant waited on them. Seeing Rhen enter, he hurried over and said, "Ah, welcome, good sir, to my master's tents. What can I, humble as my position be, do for one such as yourself?" He shifted as he talked from one foot to another, forward and then back, constantly moving.

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"And how can man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, or the temples of his gods."

"Why, any friend of Grodul's is welcome!", the man breaks into a wide grin, "My master most certainly has what you are looking for. Wait but a moment and I will return with what you seek." The man hurries off toward another entrance and returns in a moment with a armful of unstrung bows. He deposits them on a low table and motions Rhen over to him. "I am sure that you will find my master's wares most satisfactory."

On the table are as follows: 1 longbow, 1 composite longbow, 1 shortbow, 1 composite shortbow. As for prices, ask and it shall be given.

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"And how can man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, or the temples of his gods."

As the shifty man returned, Rhen's eyes immediately settled on the composite longbow, noting the material from which it was created. After the servent placed the items before him, the ranger pretended to peruse the other items, then thoroughly tested the biggest and strongest bow, bending the arms as far as he could. "How much for this one?" Rhen asked, then, after a moment of thought, or rather a whim, added," and the small one there?" (refering to the standand, non-composite shortbow).

The small man looked quickly at Rhen, then calmed himself. "The great bow is of a type that is very hard to come by, and is most expensive. But, seeing as you are a friend of Grodul's, I will cut you a special deal. You may have the bow for a mere fifty pieces of gold. Also", his eyes shift quickly towards Rhen, almost fearfully, "I will give you the small one as a bonus. What say you?"

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"And how can man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, or the temples of his gods."

"I see why Grodul recommended your master. He is very generous." Rhen's smile faded into a slightly pained face. "But I can only pay half of what you ask." He sighs, and adds," I'd sleep easier this night* knowing I could defend Grodul and his master using this bow."

"Well", the man said, hesitantly, "I really shouldn't take the price any lower, but, seeing as you are a friend of Grodul's, and it would be a shame to lose him before he can pay his debts, I will give you the bow for what you have. Provided, that is, that you take the small one as well."OOC:Yes, the suns rise and set at roughly the same time.

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"And how can man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, or the temples of his gods."

Rhen thought it odd that the merchant would insist on giving away merchandise, even after lowering the price, but the ranger wasn't about to complain. He bowed low."You are most gracious. You've got yourself a loyal customer." He fished through his tunic and withdrew two platinum and five gold pieces."I'll also need some arrows." He picked up the shortbow and examined it, wondering what reason the merchant wanted to be rid of it. Perhaps he could report more items sold to his master, or simply wanted to maintain the prior offer. Rhen just wanted to make sure he wasn't receiving a faulty bow.

"Why, yes", the man said, "How careless of me to forget arrows." He hurried back out of the tent. He was back in a moment with two quivers, one small and one large, filled with feathered shafts, "These should be adequate for each of your new weapons. A mere gold piece for the two of them."

While he was gone, Rhen's quick examination of the bow revealed nothing out of the ordinary.

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"And how can man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, or the temples of his gods."

"Of course, sir." After handing over another piece of gold, Rhen placed both quivers and the unstrung shortbow in his sack, and slung it and the longbow over his shoulder. "Thanks again. Know that I won't forget your generosity." He bowed again, and turned to leave.

Outside the tent, he noted the height of the suns, and decided to test his purchases before heading back to his employer. He started down the main road out of town, just to the outskirts where he could test the range and accuracy of the bows.

Nocking an arrow on his newly strung longbow, Rhen set his sights on the horizon, and pulled the great bow back as far as he could. Contrary to the conventional tendency, the left-handed warrior held the bow with his left hand and pulled with his right. He loosed the shaft, taking careful note of the arc and distance of the projectile. Turning to a patch of brush within the weapon's range, he set another arrow on the bow, took aim, and fired. He tried to aim as flat as possible so as not to damage his projectiles and be able to retrieve them later. It wasn't necessary, as he was firing into the soft sand.

After switching to the shortbow and similiarily loosing some practice shots, he collected his arrows. He secured his unstrung shortbow and cloth-capped, small quiver to the sheath of the short sword strapped across his back. Fitting the larger quiver to his left hip, Rhen grinned as he completed his arsenal. His child-like smirk quickly dissolved as the first of the great suns descended beneath the horizon. An awful revelation dawning on him, the ranger scooped up his belongings and dashed across the soft sand to the road, the town, and his employer.

Once Rhen arrived breathless at Amn-Alrhed's tents, everyone was gathered. Grodul smiled and clapped his hands. An elderly servant came in and, after a short converse with Grodul, left. A moment later he returned with a pitcher and large silver basin. Amn-Alrhed struggled to get his fat body up from the cushions and, wth help from Grodul, eventually managed it. He then walked over to the servant and took from him the pitcher and basin. "It is customary", he said, moving toward his guests, "in my house for the host to pour the water for washing before a meal. I will do so". He set the basin on the ground in the center of the tent and held up the pitcher expectantly.

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"And how can man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, or the temples of his gods."

Once all had washed their hands, Amn-Alrhed handed the pitcher to the same elderly servant as before. "Now, let us feast", he unceremoniously dropped himself at one end of the table. The food was good and overly plentiful. There were huge portions of meat and cooked vegetables. The wines were fine and heady. After he had eaten his full and his guests seemed satisfied, Anm-Alrhed spoke to Kherbish, "You promised us a song, this evening, friend. I would much like to hear what we will have to live with during our journey."

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"And how can man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, or the temples of his gods."

(OOC: Sorry for the delay. RL tends to take over near the end of the school year.)

Kherbish smiled. "Of course, Abughai," he said with a nod. The bard rose, gesturing for his instrument to one of the servants. "There is a story, my friends," he said as he tuned the four strings, "of a traveler called Kamar, a man of Shelath, who journeyed across the Old Lands in search of great wealth. When he came upon the Cliffs of Ajouz, whose steep faces alone are said to cause madness, it is there that his adventure truly began..." He slowly dragged the bow across the rhebab's strings, making a low and mournful sound before plucking at the strings, singing with a throaty voice of the Hero of Shelath.

Amn-Alrhed sat back and listened, but his face displayed no emotions. His servants in the tent said little as they cleared what was left of dinner. As the haunting music sang out of the tent and into the cold desert night, heads rose from the sand to listen for a moment, and then returned to the soil. All save one. A single dark form began to creep closer to the source of the sound.

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"And how can man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, or the temples of his gods."

After a long day's trek, weariness had finally caught up to Rhen as he lounged in the merchant's pillows. His body wanted to take advantage of the respite from the harsh wind and blistering suns, and simply collapse in the soft cushions. His eyes drooping, sleep threatened to overtake him.Rhen snapped his eyes wide. To fall asleep during the bard's performance would be plain rude, and his employer might think he wouldn't be able to keep a watch. Pushing aside his exhaustion, the ranger focused on the story. There would be time for rest.

"So, will we discuss our venture? Where exactly will we be going in this godforsaken desert and more importantly when are we leaving? These details must be pinned down before we waste away the night. Although the pillows are soft and the performance is pleasant."

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Those who walk the shadows, tread a very narrow path between darkness and light. This path will reveal all.